Poetry

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Our sleeping life is a kind of mystery,it has it's
own type of history,our eyes we close and we enter in,another kind of world begin,any place we travel to,from going up into the blue,no limit to the
distance then,all travel's open to us then,we
close our eyes,and enter into a world that's
pleasant,it seems that places are ever present,
they can also disappear in seconds,like the people
in the dream,they come and go from scene,to scene,
some places are in darkness too,and looking for an
exit from,these strange unwelcome places then,we
gladly leave and find a sunlit haven,and everybody
is content,to visit a place that now just went,all
states are possible in that zone,but it only takes
us all back home,on waking up we are never gone,
from where we are we'll always be,to our own lifes
reality,we be,praise GOD WE'L SEE. Joe.

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